Picking up the Pieces

Anyone that has lost a pet knows what I am going through.  I thought I was through the worst of it and like the sea ebbs, so are my emotions.  My partner and I have been giving each other alot of hugs and trying to show more attention to our other animals (cats) so that they can get on with some simblance of normalcy.  What is that, by the way?

During the day, I manage to get through the hours but at night, although I am surrounded by my partner and other pets, I find I am still picking up the pieces of a shattered soul.  At night, I've been trying to finish my next book, a collection of essays and short stories and I've accomplished it.  Not easily, as I was picking the brain of a wiser, more experienced scribe for insight along the way.  The feedback was just beyond my grasp each time.  So, it eventually revealed itself that I would need to rely on myself as always.  No amount of opposition from me would change that. 
The comfortableness of "known" are at bay for me right now.  The unknown is never easy and it seems much larger in the still of night.  There's a learning opportunity here if I bother to shuffle the stack of life lessons around and contemplate.  But, I'm weary from my travels and the dust of grief is difficult to shake.

I'm currently asking others to review the book and have even designed my own cover.  Normally, this is a joyous time in a writer's life.  But, with financial times being uncertain and my little soulmate gone;

 now that this book is done, I can still work on my other one in progress.  Perhaps that is what I should do.  But it seems that all I can do is pick up the slivers of my soul from the ground.

More Musings Later-